The roots of flowers - Feliciano and Lovino
by Thesuncomesaftertherain
Summary: My first story on here! The child will form into the man. What happened to Feliciano and Lovino as children that made them the men they became? What is the reason behind Lovino's sharp tongue and mouth; the reason behind Feliciano's unrelenting smile? Because there is always more then meets the eye. And attitudes formed as a child can shape you forever; for better or worse.


**The roots of flowers – Feliciano and Lovino.**

**(Authour note and translations at end of story :D )**

Life can be difficult. This is a cold fact noticed by both of the small boys, just developing, in an older Italy. Such a simple fact, one we know so well we hardly realize it anymore; such a novel and terrifying idea to a child, who's innocence provides a warm, if not temporary, bubble to the cruelty of the world. Such discovery was, indeed, founded before either could figure out if they preferred to smile or scowl, glare or sulk, fight or flee. Before anyone can truly take them away and freeze them close to death with the harshness of the world (Austria has conquered the North, Spain has conquered the South, and where is Nonno? Nonno, where did you go?) Because even a small child, not more than a toddler, can tell when there isn't much food to eat (because the emptiness is ever present and skin rises and falls sharply over poorly concealed bones), or when gloom hangs over Nonno's smile (he lost again, another battle, he lost again, the Great Rome has lost again). And the ever present feeling of anticipation, _that something was about to change,_ is so thick and prominent, that both children can feel it, and cling to each other (_I love you fratello). _And the feeling cuts their guardian, the Great Rome, to the core, because he knows, _he knows…_

Years flash by, in the form of a knife to the family portrait. First, a heavy swipe to the two children; in between them, separating them. _ Slash. _Now they are North Italy and South Italy. Both still children, hosting tiny sizes and innocent baby fat; but the elder is taken away, the bright family has been dimmed, and now all that remains is a now tiered, older grandfather and his grandson. Great Rome. North Italy.

_Where is Lovino Romano, Southern Italy? Why is he _Southern _Italy, Nonno?_

_Because, Feli. Because…._

_Slash! Rome is gone._ All that remains in this dark parody of a family portrait is a forlorn, tiny, vulnerable, and above all frightened child. He somehow recognizes that clenching in his stomach as fear; in his confused haze, that's all Northern Italy, the small child Feliciano, understands.

_Where is Grammpa? _The bewildered child no longer has his cheerful grandfather, and the men around him are mean, so _so_ mean, and try to take him. Where? He is too young to know, but he knows he needs to grow quickly, to understand. To understand why his big brother is gone – for that matter, to remember who that brother is. He also wants to understand what happened to his Nonno, terrified at the thought of forgetting him too. The drawings and laugher. Did he draw and laugh with his big brother? He can't remember. The feeling of forgetting such important matters only serves to clench his insides harder, and feed the feeling which is fear generously, unendingly, and he wonders if the absent mindedness is caused mainly by this fearful haze, trying to block out the pain. The pain of loss, uncertainty… Will it ever truly go away?

(It doesn't. But no one ever knows this. He hides it well.)

_But thinking would be too hard, and admitting, just realizing what had happened to Nonno is just too awful, oh please help him…he wants to understand what has happened to those he loves but he can't, oh he's just a child and it's so, so painful, he _won't _understand just yet because he can't, oh he can't because thinking hurts far too much…._

By the time Feliciano has any solid inclination as to what happened and who he is with, and where he is – or, more precisely, has allowed himself to - it is all too late. _All hail Austria! Holy Roman Empire!_ The child is a contrast to this older, gruffer, Mr. Austria, who he is told to obey. Without Question. _He is nothing like Nonno, why should I follow him!_ But the child realizes something, a somber something, and it tames him, keeps him from throwing a tantrum: _I do not want to be like Mr. Austria, or just a piece of him and forever a pawn of his power! I am North Italy, Grandson of Rome! _

He looks in the mirror and can see some of Nonno, who he knows is No More. _(But he can't really think about it just yet, or maybe ever, because it hurts and it feels like his heart is being ripped apart.) _If Feli doesn't remember his Grandfather, then who will? Who will keep the memory, the spirit, of Rome alive? And when the child, just realizing his views and attitudes, forces a smile in the mirror, he sees his Nonno. _I have a smile just like Nonno!_ Feliciano knows he no longer has anyone- aside from the people of this house- to bring him up: Ms. Hungary, Mr. Austria, and Holy Rome (a child like himself.) So to keep the sprit and memory of Rome, and to develop his own unique self from those memories, he shall do it through a smile and obedience (which would meld into a coping mechanism; _smile, it's the only thing I can do). _

He will let the people of this house raise him, so that he will still have a bit of a bubble and not be plunged into the cruelty of war too early, and forget how to smile just when he had how and why it was so important. And so that his tribute to his grandfather can be a good attitude; not the scares he had seen etched across his Nonno's back, that had been his demise. _Rome fell when he got too big and began to lose his battles. The ambition got him and he fell in combat._ This brings the clenching in his stomach, the thought of those scares, which the child can now recognize as fear_,_ and of course a gut wrenching pain at the thought of the fate of his beloved Nonno. _I do not want that to happen to me as well._ It is not how he wants to live, a life of combat. Pasta and smiling; those are how he decides he can best keep his identity, remember his grandfather, and hideaway the cold world from himself; so that the crave of power and bloodlust will not infect him as well, and he will thrive with his own unique identity.

_I will never forget you Nonno, and I will never forget who I am, even if I do space out a lot, and act like a fool to save my mind. I promise…. _

Maybe he will forever be seen as a "cowardly pasta loving air head" to the rest of the world, but to him at least, there is a well thought reason behind that unrelenting smile and carless manner.

* * *

The elder child has not forgotten the younger.

How could he? For he is older, and memories stick to him, regardless if he wants them to or not. His grandfather's last words to him will forever haunt him, forever be etched into his soul, his every movement, every word, every failure.

_"Take care of yourself, Romano. My Lovino. And, in time, grow strong, so you can take care of yourself and your brother, when I cannot."_

_"What do you mean, Nonno?" _

_"You will see… Do not let others let you forget who you are, or whose blood runs through your veins. Stay strong in will. You are older than your brother…. Please take care of the both of you. Good bye, Lovino Romano , South of Italy. I love you, my grandson. Tell yourself and Feliciano this, when I no longer can…"_

_"…Nonno?"_

Of course, this was his stupid last word to his grandfather, the Great Rome. _Nonno. Did I tell him I love him, too? That I will do all I darn well can to keep that promise? Did I thank him for everything? Or did I just say Nonno? Is that really all I said? I'm such a terrible person; I deserve all of this…_

(Is that why the child came to be so terrified of those three words? I love you? Because maybe he didn't say them when they so mattered, when he would never have another chance…? Because he learnt the pain love could come with so early?)

The elder boy is still a developing child, but still in a clearer mindset then the younger, due to an older age (although not by much), and because he knows he can't just store the pain away. At this time, he is beginning to realize how things are to pan out, that he and his fratello are to be separated when his grandfather grew weaker and fell… when, not if. The boy's grim outlook stems from then on, witnessing how greatness can crumble. (_Nonno! Nonno, come back! Please don't go! Please! I love you, and I'll never say that to another soul if you just _come back!)

(And he doesn't say it again after that, yet it is because Nonno _doesn't__ come back_.)

And, of course, seeing how the same will happen to himself and Feliciano, the whole of Italy, should he lose himself in being idealistic and carefree. For the burden of fresh responsibility on the child's young shoulders is heavy, and he knows he cannot fail this. Every failure he condemns himself for, fearing that any faults will put not only himself, but his only true surviving family in jeopardy, and damn it all if he were to throw away all his grandfather had worked for. The only memory of his Nonno. The knowledge that his brother is smarter and better will always be implanted within the deep recesses of his soul, and he will forever wonder why such responsibility wasn't within Feliciano's more capable hands. _Except for the fact that I deserve this, if I had been stronger I could have done something, this is all my fault…_

He understands early on, when he is taken away by conquerors, that being separated from his fratello and leaving him vulnerable is yet another failure. Rome won't always be there to help him, and now the part of Italy that must be strong, to protect them both, is under another's rule. Yet another greedy nation, adding to the fall of Rome and maybe the collapse of Italy.

_Go ahead, smile. Lie to me; tell me you'll protect me. You'll be the death of me, of my brother; of our identity. I will _never _allow myself to fall for the false sense of security. I will _never_ be your pawn; I am Southern Italy, and I will never forget this._ The child thinks this every day, internally clenching every time the conqueror, that ridiculous Spain, orders him about or tries to endear the child to him. With this mindset he ushers such rebellions as head butts, rough speech, and refusal to work. _If I wasn't strong enough to help Nonno, why should I even try to help someone who made things so much worse, and helped separate me from my fratello? _He grows bitter and rude only with the intent to grow strong for his nation; no one will understand this. All they see is a rude, selfish brat. But he _needs_ to be this way, to keep him from losing himself, his nation, his brother, his soul. _Cannot fail Italy. Cannot fail Nonno. _

He grows resentful at Spain's cheerful disposition; how he puts up with the boy. If the intent is to make the child feel sorry, it will never work; for if the child were not under Spanish rule, he may have been slightly more…lenient. However this is not the situation and Romano is too busy trying desperately not to grow fond of the man he has to think of as _conqueror, fool, enemy enemy enemy __enemy._ He can't forget his duty to his nation, his brother, himself. And if that man is like this out of stupidity, than it is a personal blow to the child. _ Look how you have failed, a complete idiot has captured you. You'll never be strong enough… _

In truth, although he would cringe at even admitting it to himself, Romano doesn't hate Antonio himself, although he has no idea why. He hates what he is doing to the future of Italy-yet when he sees the personal sacrifices Antonio makes for the child, he apologizes quickly, before he realizes what he has done. Every time this happens, anger winds within the child; he doesn't _want _to be a spoiled brat, he _needs_ to be free with his brother and no matter how golden a cage looks, nothing can change that it is a cage. He _cannot_ allow himself sorrow for Antonio's personal expense-besides, Spain has what it wants-Italian land. Power. Felling sorry is stupid and, above all, dangerous. He cannot grow attached, if he is to one day leave. And if Romano can _act_ like he hates Antonio, maybe one day he can truly convince himself of this, and make it all the easier to act accordingly.

And Spain has his Conqueror moments, in which all cheerfulness goes out the window, and the child fears for his life, hiding from a furious Antonio, and a furious Monarch; yet these are the moments the child wishes for more of. When he is less likely to grow attached; to veer off his goal. He cannot allow kindness to the one who holds him captive or threatens to; and same for his fratello.

Maybe he will forever be seen as a "sour jerk" to the rest of the world, but to him at least, there is a well thought reason behind that unrelenting sharp glare and tongue.

* * *

"Why must you be so mean to Mr. Germany!"

_Why can't you just open up, why are you so bitter? Why is your first reaction to anyone dislike? Can't you see how a scowl won't help anyone, especially yourself! Just stop thinking and draw a freaking smile on that sour face of yours! Why can't you just_ stopthinking_, like I do?_

"He's a macho potato, I hate him! Don't try to talk me out of it, little brother! Leave him alone!

_Can you not see how he will use you? How he will manipulate us? I don't mean to be a jerk to you… he will hurt you and I. Can you not see how I am trying to protect us both? Why can't you just _startthinking_, like I do? _

_Are you really so blind? _

_Are you really so blind? _

* * *

And so the children grow up into men. They develop attitudes and dispositions as children do; when the children, as men, are reunited, their differences repel each other. ( _Fratello? What has happened to you?) _The unification is bittersweet, but such early resolves of duty to each other and the country makes it all the easier. Their attitudes remain – Feliciano's smiling and absentness protects himself, as does Lovino's bitterness and hot head. Yet both will, in their own ways, forever fight for the three things that matter the most to each of them: Italy, their Nonno - and their brother.

**Translation – (tell me if I spelt these wrong!)**

**Nonno -Italian for grandfather.**

**Fratello- Italian for brother.**

**Author note!** _Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading this…it's a bit of a fail, I know, and I wish I could make it better for you guys, I'm sorry! And I'm fairly sure it's abnormally long for a one-shot… It's my very first fanfiction I have completed; and the first piece of my written work posted on a website. Feel free to comment; I crave the constructive criticism, it is one of the only ways for me to improve :) I strive especially for character development; really, strong characters. I hate writing 2 dimensional characters (Mary sues….*shudder*). This is why I wrote this…to help me understand the Italy brothers. So let me know what you think! Please give me your opinion and don't be afraid to let me know how you really feel about it! And yes, I will be posting more in the future…I only will post finished works, usually, so don't worry about waiting forever for story updates! Also this kinda sounds like a bio…Just realized that...well I'll keep it on here since it is my first fan fic! My baby…_

_Feel free to comment, PM, fav, follow; whatever you lovelies want! I appreciate even just a view, having just one person read this would make my day! Have great days, THANKS FOR READING ^.^ Also I have written more for Romono, but that's partly because Feli decides it's more painful to think too much, and Lovino actually thinks_ too_ much. Keep in mind this is just my weird head cannon, if you see any errors you want to point out please do. Have a great day, thanks for reading!_


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